


Ultimate Avenging Alliance

by KatHarkness_Katara



Series: Ultimate Marvel Series [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatHarkness_Katara/pseuds/KatHarkness_Katara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's some very smart people trying to unravel the secrets of super-powers. They just haven't got the hang of asking permission. It will be a learning experience all-round.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Along Came a Spider

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 1 Along Came the Spider**

Peter leaned back against the wall of his cell. It was a large room, but near completely empty. There was an oddly large heap of blankets, considering Peter was the only occupant, and in a small enclosed area there was a toilet and a sink with a beaker in case Peter got thirsty. That little addition was surprisingly considerate, but Peter had been in the cell for three days and only fed once.

It had been a normal day. School, homework, patrol. But he'd fallen foul of an ambush. There was a drunk guy (at least he seemed drunk) with a screaming woman, and his spidey sense going crazy didn't change the fact she needed help. She was in danger, or so he had thought, when she shot him with a tranq dart. She must have had friends, though; he'd got seven blocks away before passing out on the roof.

He came round strapped to an examination table. There were a bunch of guys dressed in bright yellow beekeepers outfits, and a creep in a suit and lab coat. Suit had sent the beekeepers out, and gently explained that they were interested in superpowers and he, Peter, had been selected as a test subject. They knew his identity, and had apparently sent Aunt May a hefty check along with a note explaining that Peter was furthering the cause of science, and would be back sometime in a month or so.

Peter nearly had a panic attack at that. Suit promised him they would let him go when they were done with him, but it wasn't reassuring.

Which left Peter setting in his cell, all alone.

These guys weren't utterly stupid. His wrists were clasped together with a really tough metal contraption, and he was wearing an ankle chain of the same metal. Peter had tried everything to break the restraints, but failed. It was also annoying that his suit had been replaced with a hospital smock and matching pants.

Peter huffed to himself. There was nothing to do, but worry. Were these guys telling the truth when they said they'd let him go? Were their experiments going to do anything? Anything good? Bad? Would they kill him? Were they ever going to give him more food? And why was he in such a big room with, like, two dozen blankets?

The only thing stopping him from trying to smash through the wall was the fact his spidey sense was pretty quiet.

There was a buzz. Peter dropped down several feet (he'd been sitting halfway up the wall as usual) and waited while the door rumbled open. "Dinner time?" he asked hopefully.

Two beekeepers entered the cell. "Your presence is required for further testing," Bee One said.

"C'mon, at least gimme a snack," Peter griped.

"The procedure may require intubation," Bee Two intoned. "It would not be safe for you to have anything in your stomach."

"Lucky me," Peter moaned. "Can I maybe skip the procedure and just have food?"

"No," Bee One answered.

"You may accompany us to the lab under your own power, or we will be forced to tranquilize you," Bee Two informed him.

Peter frowned. "Will I be given the opportunity to refuse the procedure when I know what it entails?" he stalled.

"Probably not."

"Definitely not if I tranq you."

Peter grumbled, but got up and followed Bee One out.

The ankle-chain was limiting Peter's movement. After nearly stumbling, prompting a quick burst of spidey sense as Bee Two poked him with the tranq rifle, he turned to his escort.

"C'mon, just take the chain off?" Peter wheedled. "It'll be so much easier."

"For you to kick us in the head and jump on to the ceiling," Bee One pointed out. "No."

Bee Two just poked Peter with the rifle again.

They reached their destination, the lab Peter woke up in. Suit was there, with another Bee (who looked just a little female) and a blond and a redhead in lab coats (now to be known as Blond Labbie and Red Labbie).

"Ah, my dear Peter," Suit said expansively. "Hop up here, please." He patted the bed, which had heavy leather restraints.

Peter glowered, but sat on the bed.

"Now, what we're going to do is inject some serums we've synthesized from your blood," Suit explained. "We're fairly sure they're safe, and we hope they might boost your powers. Sound good?"

"Uh, no, not really," Peter said, a little alarmed.

"That's a pity," Suit frowned. "We were hoping your precognition would give us a warning if anything would harm you."

"My precog- you mean spidey sense?" Peter asked.

"If that's what you call it," Suit agreed. "Of course, if you won't co-operate we'll just have to try everything."

Peter felt cold. "If…if I co-operate, you'll stop if I say so?" he asked falteringly.

"We don't want you to die," Suit shrugged. "Aside from being…unfortunate, we don't want to lose a promising test subject."

"Self-interest; very reliable," Peter quipped. "And you'll feed me?"

"If we have to intube you, you could vomit and choke," Suit informed him. "Again, unfortunate."

"Can you at least let me see your research?" Peter asked.

Suit pushed on his chest, and Peter let him lay him down and change metal restraints for leather. "You made your web fluid yourself, correct? Artificially, not via natural biological process? We'd appreciate your input."

"Thanks."

"Now, let's test that sense. One of the three injections coming up is poison. Try to warn me in time."

"What?!"

"It's just a check. For research purposes…"


	2. Incy-Wincy and Co.

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 2 Incy-Wincy and Co.**

Peter was little more than a ball of shivering human/spider flesh, despite the seven or so blankets he'd piled on top of himself. The tests had not been fun, partly because it had taken a while to work out that he was having a spidey-sense reaction to _any_ needle, and they had to find a way to qualify the response in order to get an idea how toxic each substance was. Peter had been reduced to a quivering mess of nerves and fear by the time they'd chosen and administered a test substance.

He'd then been clapped in chains again, dragged back to the cell, and _still not fed_.

Admittedly, though, he might have trouble keeping anything down, the way his stomach was clenching.

Peter wasn't sure how long he'd been curled up there feeling sorry for himself when his senses gave the merest tingle. He poked his head out from under the blankets as the door was opened, and Bees One and Two pushed a figure into the cell.

A _familiar_ figure.

A figure bound in metal cuffs and ankle chain.

The guy stumbled as Bee Two poked him with the business end of the tranq rifle, and went sprawling. One and Two retreated, and Bee Three appeared just long enough to shove in a cardboard box before the door slammed and the lock clicked.

Peter watched his new cellmate. _He_ knew who the newcomer was, and the newcomer knew him, and if their captors knew who he was…

He sniffled noisily. The new guy looked up abruptly, still trying to get upright. "Who's there?"

Peter pushed aside some of his blankets. "Peter," he said. "Peter Parker. Spiderman."

"Matt Murdock. Daredevil." Matt reclaimed his customary dexterity and shuffled over to 'see' Peter. Neither of them would have given out both names if either captor or cellmate didn't know them, so they just needed to covertly explain there was no need for secrecy. "You okay, Spidey?" Matt asked. "Your heart's a bit erratic and I'm getting a fair bit of gurgling from your digestive system."

"They've tested some serums on me, so they didn't feed me," Peter moaned. "Not feeling good…"

Matt pressed a hand against Peter's forehead. "I'm not feeling a fever," he mused. "Let's get some fluids in you. Is there any water?"

"Cup by the sink," Peter mumbled. There was a sniff as Matt scented the air, and a minute later the sound of the tap. Matt's acute senses actually gave him a better 'picture' of his surroundings than a normal, seeing person, so was probably relieved he didn't have to hide it.

"Here you go." The cup was pressed awkwardly to Peter's lips, and he let Matt hold it for him – the cuffs pressed their wrists together, which was inconvenient.

"Thanks," Peter said, pushing himself up. "I do actually feel better now."

"Just remember you owe me when I'm the whimpering heap on the floor," Matt shrugged. "Smells like they've given us some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Want some?" He wrinkled his nose.

Peter crawled towards the box, found the sandwiches and dug in. "Finally," he mumbled. "You want one?"

Matt made a face. "Not really."

Peter frowned. "You got an allergy or something?"

"No, it's just…too many different tastes and textures." The Devil of Hell's Kitchen paced the cell, testing his restraints and scenting the air. "Tell me everything. It's been, what, three days?"

"Going on four," Peter corrected. He summarised the past few days morosely. "So, Bee One and Be Two were the ones who were dragging you; Two's the one who likes the rifle-"

"He smells of gunpowder and eagerness."

"-and Bee Three is the woman."

"So now I've got not-names to put to smells," Matt muttered. "I've met your guy Suit, by the way. He says he's sent Foggy a letter and check, which is probably going to make him panic."

"And the one he sent to Aunt May won't panic her?"

Matt snorted. "One, your Aunt doesn't know there's a good reason people might want to dissect you, and two, you 'furthering the cause of science' could easily be you getting a research job, which would fall within your skillset. I'm a lawyer, and Foggy knows about Daredevil."

Peter rooted around in the box a bit more. "Good news, they've actually given me a copy of their research so far." He pulled out a sheaf of papers.

"I didn't see that," Matt deadpanned.

"I'm giving you a dirty look."

"It's not impressing me." Matt dropped onto the blanket nest. "This room's near completely sound-proofed, and there are three cameras. None in the bathroom."

"Yeah, but light's too dim to see much," Peter groused.

The light intensity increased.

"We're being tragically denied steak dinner," Peter ventures.

Nothing happened.

"What are you trying?" Matt asked.

"Well, the lights came on," Peter pouted.

Matt snorted.

Peter let out a bark of laughter. "At least they've given me access to a lawyer."

"Not funny, Parker. Can you snap these ankle chains or something?"

"I've tried," Peter growled. "Dunno what it is, but I can't break it."

"I know I've smelt it somewhere before," Matt mused. "You read your research, would you?"

Peter stuck his tongue out.

"Still not impressed."


	3. The Devil Who Dares

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 3 The Devil Who Dares**

"Got a firm grip?"

"Yeah. You wedged securely?"

"I am. When you're ready. Pull."

Peter let his stickiness anchor him, and pulled on Matt's ankle chain. Matt had wedged himself in the bathroom to give Peter a chance to break the chain. It didn't seem to be working.

Peter grunted, his arms and hands aching. Mat was trembling with the effort of staying put, and…

Peter hissed, and let go. Matt scurried over. "Blood?" he asked.

"Chain cut my hands rather than break," Peter muttered. "Did the cuffs cut you ankles, or…?"

"No, they're padded," Matt said. "Let's…wash that blood away."

Peter stuck his hands in the sink, letting the water clean his hands. "It's not too bad; it should seal up in a few minutes," he reported. "How's the smell?"

Matt had sat down with a bit of tissue to clean his chain. "I'll be fine, it just surprised me," he dismissed. "So we can't break the restraints."

"We can't break the restraints," Peter confirmed, sitting next to him.

"Can we smash the door?"

"Let's try that later."

They were silent for a minute.

"How'd they catch you, Horn-head?"

"Well, _Web-head_ ," Peter smirked at the nickname, "there was a mugging, I saved the girl, and she dropped me."

"You didn't hear it coming?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your senses didn't warn you of _your_ ambush," Matt muttered.

Peter tried to come up with a come-back that wasn't lame, overly-prickly or a blind joke (because Matt's the only one allowed to crack those), and failed. "Okay, I take your point," he muttered.

"The prosecution rests," Matt smirked.

"The hypothesis is still unproven," Peter countered.

Matt groaned. "If I don't try to out-lawyer you, could you nor try to out-scientist me?"

Peter frowned. "Then what can we talk about?"

"Well, I could go through all the legal precedents that say I should have taken action to keep you home the moment I realised you're a minor," Matt offered.

Peter made a face. "Not my fault I was bitten at fifteen," he muttered sullenly.

"I was blinded at nine," Matt reminded him. "Actually, why don't you tell me about that research?"

"Uh…you're not a scientist," Peter pointed out.

"I know the basics," Matt retorted. "And if I don't get it, you can explain it to me."

"We can try that," Peter agreed. "They're theorizing that the spider that bit me had a retro-virus in its venom, which then basically re-wrote my DNA, so as old cells died and were replaced, the new ones were exhibiting more…spidery characteristics. Which makes sense, I suppose. Dad started the research, and he encoded it all to his own genes, so it would explain why I'm the only one it seems to work stably on…" he trailed off.

"Er…the spider changed your DNA, and it worked because it already had a lot of your genes?" Matt hazarded.

"Close enough," Peter agreed. "They seem to be wondering what will happen if they give me more of the retro-virus – ah, the DNA changing thing."

"If it's a matter of a one-time change, surely more retro-virus wouldn't change anything?" Matt asked.

"That's one possibility," Peter nodded. "There may be other traits that are still dormant. It might enhance the ones I've got. It might send me from being a slightly spider-y man to a slightly man-ish spider. Might poison me, but we think we know how the spidey-sense is responding to potentially fatal injections."

"Oh, so they're just going to stick you full of stuff until they work out what it does," Matt snorted.

"Pretty much," Peter shrugged. "Then they want to give me anti-virals."

"Delightful." Then Matt groaned and leant is head back. "I've just remembered. I'm meant to be in court next week."

Peter winced. "Can your partner handle it without you?"

"Probably, but judges don't like it when attorneys don't show up," Matt fretted. "Plus we tend to need Daredevil to ensure we don't have witnesses change their stories or go missing or anything."

Peter winced. "I hope it works out."

"So do I; we can't really afford to ruin any cases," Matt said gloomily. "Are you missing anything much? Other than classes."

"I can catch up on most of it," Peter dismissed. "Not necessarily the Spanish. There's a class test…tomorrow? Tomorrow, I think."

"Having problems?" Matt frowned.

"It doesn't come easily, and I tend to be pretty busy," Peter said defensively.

"I did Spanish at college, you know," Matt said. "If we get bored, we can see what we remember."

"Maybe," Peter allowed. "I tend to get mixed up with the verb endings."

"That's just a matter of practise and memorization," Matt assured him. "Shouldn't be too hard to-"

The door opened, Matt and Peter sprung to their feet, automatically going into defensive crouches. Bee One and Two entered. "Murdock, your turn," Beet One announced.

"I don't feel like it," Matt said flatly. "I think I'll stay."

Bee Two hefted his rifle. "It wasn't a question."

Matt snorted, then fell forward into a handspring. Peter leapt straight for Bee Two, spotting Matt give Bee One a hefty double kick. His spidey-sense tingled, but he couldn't dodge the tranq dart. The more powerful sedative all too soon overwhelmed him. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Matt being pinned.


	4. The Man Without- Okay, With Fear

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 4 Man Without- Okay, With Fear**

"So, Mr Murdock, or should I call you Matt? Let's talk about your senses."

Matt focused on pulling against the tough leather holding him down. It wasn't yielding. Maybe Peter could have snapped them, but the threat of mystery serums hanging over his head probably kept him complacent. Matt wasn't feeling quite so pacified. He dug his elbows into the bed and pulled against the restraints on his wrists as hard as he could.

After several minutes, his muscles spasmed and he relaxed, his torso collapsing as lungs he hadn't realized weren't working started up again. He scowled at the ceiling.

The man next to him chuckled. The odours of fabrics indicated an open coat revealing a suit with a silk-blend tie, so this must be Suit. "It won't work, Matt," he said. "We made those to keep down Captain America. From the scans we have so far, you have no strength enhancement at all."

"Let me go," Matt growled, letting himself fill with anger. A few traces of fear at his helplessness were ruthlessly suppressed.

"We will," Suit assured him, heartbeat steady and truthful. "When we're finished. The more you cooperate, the sooner you can go home. And if you tell us what you want, what you need, well, we can't give you something we don't know you need."

"What I _need_ is for you to let me go," Matt snarled.

"You don't want your abilities heightened?" Suit re-joined quickly. "Or some new powers? Spiderman's precognition? Captain America's strength? Thor's command of lightening?"

Matt stilled. It was something he'd thought about occasionally, but always dismissed. He had what he had. Besides, there was only one other ability he _really_ wanted, and Suit hadn't mentioned it. But _he_ wouldn't bring it up. Well, maybe with Peter later. "What I _want_ is to keep my city safe," he said instead. "Can't do that tied up here."

"We can help you keep it safe," Suit offered. "Make you better at it." He paused. "And we're not letting you go until we have our answers anyway. Why make it hard on yourself? Your friend Peter asked for a copy of our research and we provided. What can we do for you?"

"So that's it. I play along, you gild my cage," Matt said bitterly.

"I can have you returned to the cell right now," Suit said coldly. "You can stay there until you're willing to cooperate, or until we devise experiments that won't require your cooperation. Maybe we won't get our answers, but you won't see your city."

Matt slumped. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Cooperation is in your best interests," Suit shrugged. "And as your cooperation is in _our_ best interests, it benefits us to keep you cooperative. Anything you want?"

Matt thought. "I don't want lightening. No use for it. And I have to be careful enough not to hurt people too much as it is; I can't risk superstrength. My senses give me enough data without Peter's spidey sense."

"Tell me about your senses," Suit said, in the tone of voice used for coaxing a reluctant child. There was a scrape of metal on tile, followed by a gentle thud and a puff of displaced air. He'd dragged a chair over and sat down.

"I don't see, as such," Matt confessed. "You know that. But when I hear…it's like a world on fire. I hear how each sound echoes, and that tells me how far away things are. Like…echolocation, or sonar, or something. Then I feel air currents, which helps with movement. Basically, all my senses are boosted. I forget all the names. Temperature, pressure, spatial awareness, smell, taste. I generally identify people by scent, but locate and isolate them by the sound of their heartbeat." He tilted his head, deciding to show off a little. "You have two friends in here. They're both approximately four feet to my left. Male. Late thirties, early forties – the one nearer my head is slightly older, I think, because he dyes his hair blond. I'm guessing the other is a redhead. They're wearing labcoats, which have a very particular texture I can hear when they move. Blondie's writing notes on what I'm saying. Redhead is making notes about something else. Can't tell what. Now they've both stopped writing."

"How do you know my hair colour?" Redhead asked incredulously.

"Peter mentioned two guys in labcoats, one blond, one redhead," Matt shrugged. "Your friend dyes his hair. I just had to guess that you two are the same two Peter saw." He paused, and continued. "You, Mr 'Red Labbie', showered about five hours ago. You use medicated shampoo. You're clean-shaven, but clumsy. You're trying to get close to you female friend in the bee suit, but I suspect she's rejecting your advances."

"How?" Suit breathed, entranced.

"The timescale approximation is based on the build-up of body odors. The shampoo leaves a trace of scent. He cut himself shaving, hmm, three days ago The cologne he's wearing is generally only used by teenagers and the desperate, but clings to the lady. Again, I guessed a little to fill in the gaps."

"How good's your touch?" Suit asked, moving on.

"Great, but not always useful. I can identify any fabric, but most of them feel too rough against my skin."

"We'll have to test that," Suit muttered excitedly.

Matt let his head thump back on the bed. "Oh, joy."


	5. Comparing Notes

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 5 Comparing Notes**

Matt stumbled and righted himself as he was pushed back into the cell. Peter was still unconscious, but at least their captors had taken the time to drop him on the blanket pile. The teen appeared to have burrowed into the cloth unconsciously, if the near-constant whisper of shifting fabric was anything to go by.

Matt shuffled over to the pile and slid down the wall. He'd been given a sheaf of papers for Peter's research file, and he set them down while he waited for Peter to wake. He had some success reading handwriting with his fingertips, and depending on the ink could sometimes read printed words, but he couldn't this time. Mind you, it was probably too technical for him to understand anyway. He discarded the half-formed notion of requesting it in Braille. He started to meditate.

Maybe an hour later, Peter started making little whimpering noises, bringing Matt back to the cell. "Easy, Spidey," he murmured.

"'Devil?" the teen mumbled. "Are you- are we-?"

"It's okay," Matt reassured him, hearing the jingle of Peter automatically pulling against his ankle-chain. "I'm fine, you've been sleeping, we seem to be being left alone right now."

"Not sure sleeping's the right word," Peter grumbled. He sat up, the blankets pooling in his lap, heartbeat settling into its usual slightly jerky beat. "You really fine? No nauseating serums or anything?"

"We mostly just talked," Matt frowned. "The guy I'm pretty sure is Suit asked about my sense. I threatened not to cooperate and he threatened to keep me locked up indefinitely. Then he offered me extra…abilities, powers, whatever you want to call 'em. He said it was in his best interests to keep me cooperative. He wasn't lying."

Peter exhaled. "He told me that if I cooperated, he wouldn't give me any serums my spidey sense thought would be fatal."

"Effective," Matt muttered. "He had me describe how my senses work to give me my perception, I showed off a little, he got me to identify things by touch or smell. Oh, and he promised nicer clothes and better food."

"But it was just talking?" Peter asked, voice taking a confused tone.

"Surprisingly non-invasive," Matt agreed. "By the way, you've got some more reading." He passed over the papers.

They fell silent, but for the rustling papers. Matt went over all the talk, dissecting it, putting together any hints. This was lawyer work; let Peter deal with the science.

"They're planning on kidnapping Captain America," he announced. "Maybe Thor, and possibly other Avengers as well. They seem to understand our goals to keep the city safe, and I think they support it, but they're a little…uncertain regarding how moral or otherwise the things they do in pursuit of _their_ goals. I reckon they want to create superhuman, possibly for benevolent purposes, and they feel that end justifies quite a lot of means."

Peter put down his research. "Explain?"

"The restraints on the bed. They were made to withstand Captain America. They offered me his strength and Thor's lightening. If they're planning on kidnapping those two, it's not too hard to guess they might take more Avengers." Matt exhaled and leaned back. "Suit offered to help me keep the city safe. That's how he phrased letting him experiment on me, but…I think he liked the idea of his research being used like that. If he's trying to give me powers, it stands to reason he wants to give non-powered people powers. Considering that he seems to _like_ his work doing good, and he gets a little pleased when we tell him we want something he can provide and sad when he can't, I think he has benevolent intentions."

Peter whistled. "If I ever end up on vigilantism charges, would you defend me?"

"I'll even do it pro bono," Matt smirked. "As long as you promise that if I ever end up with powers going haywire, you'll do the sciency bit to sort it out."

Peter chuckled. "We'll see. This-" he tapped the papers "-is about you. They reckon that it's not actually your senses that are enhanced."

Matt frowned. "Run that one by me again?"

"Right, well, there was your accident," Peter said. "Radioactive goop in your eyes. There were two effects. The chemicals partially eroded the corneas, hence the milky film look-"

"What milky film?" Matt frowned.

"Your eyes look like they're covered with a milky film. It's because the corneas are roughened – like frosted glass? Caused by not-smooth-ness."

"I think I follow you," Matt nodded. "What else?"

"It appears the goop seeped around your eyeballs and destroyed your optic nerves," Peter continued. "Sorry, I know it sounds awful-"

"Go on," Matt said, trying to stay objective. Just…pretend it was someone else.

"There's no signs that the goop ever interacted with your ears, or nose, and it didn't bathe the entirety of your skin," Peter hurried on. "There's insufficient data from the time of the accident to be sure, but judging by the radiation in the brain scans they did and the side effects you have observed, there's a working hypothesis that your brain started automatically rewiring to compensate – _all_ blind people do, just not like you – and the radiation boosted it. Your sensory nerves didn't improve, just your brain's ability to experience them."

Matt thought about it. "In practical terms, what does that mean?"

The air shifted as Peter shrugged. "Nothing really. Unless you get a brain transplant…"

Matt grimaced.


	6. Missing and Wanting

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 6 Missing and Wanting**

"Science class."

"Case research."

"Gatorade."

"Coffee."

"Aunt May's cooking."

"Foggy's heartbeat."

"Wind in my ears when zipping between buildings."

"Oh, yeah. That's sublime. The rush of sound…"

Peter smiled sadly. They were starting to run out of things they missed that weren't slightly…dodgy. "The satisfaction of a hogtied villain."

"And a heartfelt thank you from the victim," Matt assed wistfully.

"I don't miss being called a menace, though."

"Or being shot at by the police."

"We do appear to be being injured less than normal," Peter commented. "I've been here a week, and I've only had one nasty injection and a few cuts and bruises from trying to break out and snap the chains. Bit freaky."

"They spent _hours_ exposing me to stimuli to watch my brain respond," Matt moaned. "I think I'm hallucinating the smell of cloves."

Peter winced. "I'm sure it'll fade, buddy."

"I hope so; I never liked cloves," the lawyer grumbled.

Peter felt his muscles starting to cramp, and stood. He stretched as best he could, and flung himself down onto the blanket pile. "Is there any power you wish you had?" he asked.

Matt shifted. "Well…healing. It's got to help, right? I can speed it up a bit with meditation, but that's not much help when I'm unconscious and bleeding out."

"Well, it makes taking meds difficult, 'cause you metabolize it so quick," Peter mused. "Hard to judge how much to take."

"Can't stand painkillers," Matt grunted. "Compromises my hearing. And with no sight…"

"You don't like losing another sense; I get it," Peter nodded. "So if these guys reckoned they could give you my healing factor, would you let them? Happily, I mean."

"I'm hardly going to be _happy_ about being experimented on, but yeah, I'd like that," Matt confirmed. "But I hate to think what they'd do to you to get the healing."

Peter shrugged. "I've seen you take a beating and keep fighting. I've heard _stories_. Been in a dumpster lately?"

Matt glared sullenly. "Doesn't mean you should let yourself get dissected for me."

"Matt, I don't know if you're noticed, but we kind of don't have a choice," Peter argued. "If they decide to give it a go, they'll shoot us with tranq darts and do it anyway."

"Fantastic," Matt grumbled. "Sorry I mentioned it."

"You know what would be cool? Wolverine's healing factor," Peter smirked.

"Great. Now they'll kidnap him," Matt complained. "He smells like a wet dog and cigars."

"But I bet his claws can take out the restraints," Peter grinned. "And then we go home."

Matt smiled back, then frowned. "Ah. Maybe not." He raised his wrists to his face, sniffed, then banged the restraints off the wall. "Adamantium. I knew I recognized the metal."

Peter winced. "At least that explains how the chain managed to cut my hands."

"Could we use the chains as a weapon?" Matt asked seriously.

"They're tying our ankles together. I might be able to manage something, but that's stretching even my flexibility," Peter pointed out.

Matt thought for a moment. "Okay. So when they next come for us, we jump them-"

"We tried that twice. I got tranqed both times," Peter grumbled.

"This time, you will jump from above and throttle 'em with the ankle chain," Matt informed him.

Peter snorted. "There is no way that could possibly go wrong."

"We can try," Matt said stubbornly.

"Yeah, maybe eventually I'll develop an immunity to the sedative," Peter snarked. "Can't you just use your radar/sonar thing to find a tunnel?"

"Doesn't work like that," Matt shot back. "Can't you weave us a protective cocoon?"

"No, 'cause they took my webshooters, and despite certain rumours, _it's not actually naturally produced by my own body,_ " Peter hissed. "You should hear some of the cracks I've heard about why the webs aren't more 'appropriately located' for a spider."

The cell door shuddered open. Suit was accompanied by the two male Bees. Peter launched himself for Bee Two and got a rifle to the stomach, while Matt collapsed with One's tranq dart in his shoulder.

"You two had some great ideas," Suit smirked.


	7. Waking Ain't Easy

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 7 Waking Ain't Easy**

"Matt!"

"C'mon, Murdock, wake up already!"

" _Matt!_ "

Matt moaned slightly. His senses were dulled, making everything…foggy.

"No, Matt, I'm Peter. Spiderman. Remember? Foggy's your best friend who isn't here. I didn't think you'd _want_ him here."

Had he said that bit out loud?

"Yeah, and that bit too."

He opened his eyes. The world was still blurry.

"You're blind, remember? That sedative must really be messing with you. I'll get some water, see if that clears your head."

There was a soft patter, and some clinking, followed by a squeaking and a liquidy whoosh. More pattering, more clinking, and a plastic cup was against his lips. He gulped down the water and collapsed against the pile of rough-shifting-nasty material.

"Erm, I guess the sedative is tailored more to me than to you," Peter rambled. "You're looking really whoozy. I knew you didn't like drugs, but seriously. Not a good look. For once, you seem to be acting like you actually _are_ blind. And, y'know. Non-enhanced. But don't you generally act blind, properly blind I mean, when you're not being Daredevil, or at home alone? Keeping up that kind of act must be tough. I find it hard enough pretending to be a mere nerdy weakling, and that's just a matter of letting people push me around."

"Peter," Matt groaned. The chatter had echoed around the cell as his acute hearing kicked in again. "Peter, you can stop talking now." He pushed himself up and cast away the blanket. "What about you? You okay?"

"The retro-viral serum appears to have done nothing," Peter said gloomily. "That's what they were checking. They want to give me a more potent serum, so now I'm not allowed to eat." The teen shifted. "But they gave me a box file to keep the research papers in, and there's…oh. Um. Well, that's…interesting."

Peter's heartbeat spiked a little; anxious. "What is it?" Matt asked, growing suspicious.

"Little miss Bee Three seems to be a sociologist, and there's five pages of…observations." The air shifted around Peter's face, but Matt couldn't work out what face he was making. "Apparently the 'nurturing instinct' is a powerful influence."

"Meaning…we look after each other?" Matt asked.

"Pretty much," Peter agreed. "There's some really strange speculation on the significance of the power-play between intellectual disciplines."

"The what?"

"I think it means that argument we had on science versus law."

"Law's still more useful in everyday life."

"Everyday life is _built_ on science."

"The way of life, maybe, but _society_ …"

"You're never gonna convince me, Matt, and I know I can't change your mind." Peter giggled. "Besides, if all us science geniuses started practising law, you'd be out of business."

"You'd get bored and quit as soon as you realised how much paperwork is involved," Matt shot back. "Generally speaking, a failure to blow up your own lab is considered a victory, not a disappointment."

"We try to blow up bad guy labs, not our own," Peter replied primly. "Just like law is about more than using every possible loophole to trample the little guy."

"Touché," Matt murmured. "But, remind me, how many criminal empires have you dismantled?"

" _You_ remind _me_ , how many years have you been doing this?"

"You only started a year before me," Matt protested.

"It was a busy year."

"Yeah…the alien invasion, and Stark's fiasco, and whatever went down in Greenwich, and the SHIELD/Hydra disaster, and the robots trying to take over the world…" Matt counted off on his fingers for effect. "Have I missed anything?"

"Electro. Goblin," Peter muttered gloomily.

Matt sighed. "We do our best."

"Too many deaths."

"I know."

They fell silent. Peter's heartbeat was slowing, and he was slumping. He was probably dozing off.

The cell door clicked, and Matt stood up. Peter had started, instinctively jumping halfway up the wall. "Not again," he muttered.

Suit came in first. He seemed…pleased.

"Good evening, boys," he said. "You really had some fantastic ideas earlier. Healing factors?"

Matt winced internally. "I'm fine healing the way I always do…"

"I thought you couldn't isolate my healing factor?" Peter asked.

"Not yet," Suit confirmed. "And we couldn't find Wolverine."

There was a scuffle, and Bees One and Two dragged another person into the cell. The person appeared to be much bloodier than would be expected for someone freshly changed into hospital scrubs. He smelt strongly of Mexican spices, gunpowder and death. There didn't seem to be a heartbeat.

The corpse was dropped, and the captors left them. Then…

_Thu-thump._

_Thu-thump._

Matt groaned. The no-longer-dead person mumbled, and woke.

"Hello, Deadpool."


	8. Don't Out the Super-Bros!

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 8 Don't Out the Super-Bros!**

Matt couldn't tell if the heart stutter was because Deadpool was still healing, or from shock at the words.

"You recognize me, D- M- sexy redhead I've never met before?" Deadpool spluttered. His heart quivered as he said it.

Peter sighed. "He's Daredevil, Wade; you know this."

Deadpool's heartbeat was accelerating. "What do you mean, little cutie who I've never met before?"

Matt sighed. "Spidey and I were both in suits when we were caught."

"Super-bros don't out super-bros," Deadpool hissed.

"Appreciate it, but already out," Peter said. "And the dancing around each other was seriously awkward first time. 'Sides, you don't have a secret identity. It'll be nice to have someone else to talk to when Matty gets hauled away for testing."

Deadpool whined. "Missy Author warned me about that." Matt rolled his eyes; a good third of Deadpool's chatter was pure gibberish, even if he believed every word of it. "You remember the first time we three worked together?"

"Yeah; it was a complete mess," Peter answered.

"It was a dark and stormy night," Deadpool started dramatically.

"It was a bit muggy because it had been raining, but not stormy," Matt corrected.

"Overcast though, so it was pretty dark," Peter added.

"And I had been entrusted with a mission of great import!" Deadpool continued.

"You were hired to off someone."

"A master of the underworld!"

"Uh, Yakuza bigwig, right?"

"He had been summoned by his compatriots, and I was to ensure nothing came of the summit," Deadpool orated. "His ship came in to dick, and I lined up the shot. Then, to my right, came the Spider, and to my left, the Devil."

"You were in Midtown, Deadpool, you know that's my territory."

"I've been watching those Japs since Nobu nearly killed me."

"Upon spying the Spider, the Devil summoned him to his side to whisper sweet nothings in his ear."

"I waved him over to discuss strategy, considering that when _you're_ involved everything gets hectic pretty quick."

"At last! I had a bead on my target, and prepared to remove his stain from the earth."

"Dude, you fired a submachine gun at him! You killed twelve people!"

"And his accomplices were smote mightily."

"You tried to go on a killing spree! Blood _everywhere_ -"

"That gun near ruptured my eardrum."

"Lemme tell the story, would you?!"

"You're not doing a very good job of it," Matt and Peter chorused.

"You do it then," Deadpool sulked.

Matt rolled his eyes. Might as well humour the merc. "You started shooting, killed the Yakuza boss, most of his entourage, and several of the native Yakuza."

"Then everything went to hell," Peter supplied.

"Everyone firing at everyone else, thinking it was a set up," Matt recounted. "Peter stayed up high and on the move, webbing everything he could see. I went for you, smashed the gun and broke your jaw."

"It healed wonky. I had to rebreak it," Deadpool griped.

"Then the cops turned up and we all ran for it," Peter remembered.

"We didn't want to leave you for the cops, so we tried herding you towards Stark Tower," Matt smirked. "You kept breaking your legs jumping off buildings."

"But then _you_ got sufficiently far from Hell's Kitchen to be unable to parkour everywhere, and I only had one working webshooter, and it ran out of fluid, then while I was switching in the fluid vial from the bust shooter-"

"Deadpool started talking about all the murders in NCIS, and you got going about forensic biochemistry," Matt prompted.

"Oh yeah," Peter perked up. "Hey, maybe we should learn a bit of forensics. Could be useful."

"I don't think anyone's developed a form of forensics that doesn't require sight," Matt said dubiously. "I'm not sure my improved olfactory sense would completely compensate."

"Your usual method of working out who actually committed a crime involves hitting people until they confess," Peter pointed out. "We could maybe work together when we have this stuff?"

"Hey, yeah!" Deadpool exclaimed. "And I can pass on some merc scuttlebutt!"

"Fantastic," Matt sighed. "But last time I had the dubious pleasure of spending any appreciable time with you two, Wade spent twenty minutes complaining that someone called Andrew Garfield should change his name to Gordon."

"Well Gordon Garfield would go with Charlie Cox and Ryan Reynolds," Deadpool pouted. "Which would fit with Peter Parker, Matt Murdock and Wade Wilson."

Matt moaned. "Peter? Translation?"

"Ah, Reynolds is an actor?" Peter guessed. "So are the others?"

"Charlie Cox really needs a dye job," Deadpool told them earnestly.

"Then you made fun of Matt's middle name," Peter remembered.

"Seriously, what _was_ his father thinking?"

"You told me mine was only a hair's breadth off horribly cliché."

"Well, it is."

"Then you said, and I quote, 'oh, wait, you two do know about each other? Great. I'd hate to out the super-bros'."

"And I kicked you in the groin, then headbutted you in the face."

"Dude, your horns left imprints. It was hilarious."

Matt smirked. He raised his hand in a fist and, after a moment, Peter caught on.

"Awesome! I wanna join the fist bump."


	9. The Work of a Lawyer

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 9 The Work of a Lawyer**

Peter alternated between watching Wade snore and watching Matt wince. Apparently, healing from a death took a lot of energy. And Matt didn't need to explain that merc snoring plus super hearing equalled sore ears.

"I was wondering," Petr said suddenly. "What happened the first time you worked with Deadpool?"

Matt squirmed slightly, the cell's blankets too rough for his sensitive touch. "He came into the office and scared the living daylights out of Foggy and Karen."

"Ouch," Peter winced. "Guns or scars?"

"Guns. Swords. I think he had a few grenades..." Matt trailed off. "He said he'd been hired to kill someone, but he was framed."

Peter frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it took a few minutes to get him to give me a more...linear story. The hit was on a gang lord. Employer had some serious gambling debts, seemed he'd decided it would be cheaper to off the creditor. But when Deadpool approached the building where the target supposedly was, it exploded."

"Wade was framed for the explosion?" Peter guessed.

"Yeah. Wanted me to help clear his name, 'cause he knew I'd know if he was lying." Matt sighed. "The hardest part was trying to find a way to exonerate him. He couldn't turn himself in, because there's a lot of murders he _did_ commit. The explosion was all over the news; didn't you hear about it?"

"Thirty dead, forty injured, over a hundred homeless? I think I remember it." Peter winced. "I was livid, 'cause Deadpool told me he was only into mindless violence upon people who deserve it. Would have been out there hunting him down myself, 'cept I'd dislocated my shoulder and had to wait for it to heal."

"Probably for the best," Matt nodded. "That could have got messy."

"Yeah." Wade let out a particularly loud snore, making Matt wince again, and Peter glanced over lest the merc was choking. "Didn't know you were involved, though."

"We kept it quiet," Matt shrugged. "We eventually came up with the idea of tracking down the guy who actually blew the building and getting him to confess to Deadpool - who no one would believe - and half a dozen tape recorders, none of which he knew about. Turned out Deadpool's employer was paying off his debt in a game of double-or-quits, where he'd win if Deadpool made it to a month without capture. We got enough for both debtor and creditor to be charged with conspiracy. Then we threatened to sue every media outlet that claimed Deadpool was the bomber for libel and slander unless they retracted." Matt smiled fondly. "Foggy was quite upset about the whole thing, but Deadpool managed to get his original fee, insisted on splitting it with me, and so I called it the firm's payment for services rendered. We paid that months bills, gave Karen a bonus, and have most of the rest set aside for an emergency."

"Good payday?" Peter asked.

"At this point, _any_ payday is a good payday," Matt shrugged. "We're hardly rolling in it."

Peter smiled. "Glad I didn't mess that up for you."

"It's appreciated," Matt nodded. "Karen doesn't know this, but...we've been quietly making arrangements in case I'm killed or arrested in the mask. Having a bit of spare cash will help." He paused. "We decided that, if I go missing, Foggy would give me three months." He tilted his head towards what had to be one of the cameras. "Hear that? You said a month, so don't get carried away."

"Dunno if I should envy you for having someone in the know to take care of your affairs, or pity Foggy for having a good idea what's happening," Peter muttered.

"For your sake, I'm hoping your aunt _does_ assume you've been recruited as a researcher, not a test subject," Matt whispered. "Might keep her from panicking too much."

Peter hmmed. "You think Deadpool has someone who'll miss him?"

Matt tilted his head. "I hope so. It would be awful to be so alone no one notices you've been kidnapped."

Peter found himself wanting to get closer to his friend, just to reassure each other that they weren't alone. After a moment, he figured he might as well go for it. "That's something I'm scared might happen to me, he confessed, settling down next to Matt. "When I move out and go to college, who'd know if I don't come home?"

"I'm sure Aunt May will call you, every week," Matt reassured him. "Or, if you're that worried, I could call you." The lawyer grinned. "How about this? Foggy's wanted to meet you since he heard I knew you. Why don't I introduce you, and we'll see if he feels like mother-henning you?"

Peter chuckled. "Sure you want to share your best friend?"

Matt shrugged. "Foggy loves having friends, and I think he appreciates it when you're watching my back. Anyway, I had pretty much the exact same fear when I headed to college. Dunno how I'd have coped without Foggy." He smirked. "But he's still _my_ partner, and don't you forget it."

"That would be nice," Peter smiled. Then he thought of something, and his face fell. "Assuming we get out of here."

Matt fumbled, and grasped his hand. "We _will_ get out of here, Peter. We _will_."

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, we will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Back from the mini-hiatus. Got distracted by Marvel Red Team week...
> 
> So, also Jason and the Argonauts, Black and Red, and Ultimate Writing Adventure. More soon.
> 
> Please comment and/or kudos.
> 
> Katara


	10. Imprisonment

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 10 Imprisonment**

"I need to kill a tiger."

Wade wasn't at all sure why those were his first words upon waking, but they were. He blinked lazily at the ceiling, trying to work out what it meant, until the image of a triangular blade on an H-shaped grip faded and left his mind.

\ _Probably nothing relevant,_ / the white voice dismissed.

- _Still, tiger hunting,_ \- Yellow mused.

' _Later, maybe,_ ' Wade thought back.

He was on a heap of scratchy blankets, wrists and ankles still restrained, and the cell was noticeably dim. "Dark. That mean it's night?"

"No, actually. I think it was to facilitate your rest, seeing as no-one else was using the,. But that's a guess, 'cause I can't see 'em."

Wade looked over through the gloom, and could just make out a single figure huddled in the corner. "Matty-Matt? Where's Petey-Pie?"

"Testing," Matt said dolefully.

Wade squirmed upright. "Too dark," he grumbled. "There isn't a light switch anywhere, is there?" There was a flicker, and the lights came on. "Oh, never mind."

Matt tilted his head. "They on now?" he asked.

"Yeah." Wade paused to examine Matt. When he'd first been inserted into the cell, the lawyer had been clad in the same hospital scrubs as he and Peter, but now he was wearing a different pair of sweatpants and a silky-looking t-shirt. He was still bound hand and foot, but he had a lightly steaming cup cradled in his hands. Rather than the dull grey blankets, he'd got himself a brown, fleecy blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "Gone up the world, you have, it seems," Wade commented.

Matt snorted. "Our captors wish to avoid causing us unnecessary stress, bar imprisonment, restraint, and experimentation. The clothing, the blankets, they're irritating my skin, so now I have these." He paused. "There's at least one other, smaller cell. They took me there, locked me in, and remotely deactivated my cuffs so I could change. They gave me the option of willingly recuffing myself or being gassed into unconsciousness so they could do it. They were outside the door, within earshot. It was not a hollow threat."

"Don't like marching to their drum, huh, Matty-Matt?" Wade mused aloud. It wasn't exactly a secret that not only Daredevil, but Matt Murdock as well, valued his independence. Being forced to shackle his own ankles, slap restraints on his own wrists…to enable his own imprisonment, it had to hurt.

Matt made a resentful snorty sort of noise, and sipped his cup. "There's food," he said abruptly. "Mexican. I can never remember what name refers to what, but there's chicken, peppers, a bit of guacamole, wrapped in tortillas." He nodded towards a small box.

Wade swarmed over, and gobbled down the fajitas. We need to save some for Petey-Pie?" he asked, mouth full.

Matt shook his head. "I don't know when he'll be back, and our captors keep limiting his food whenever they're planning another procedure."

Wade thought about it, didn't really understand, and decided he didn't care, as long as his cute little baby boy was okay. He voiced the question.

"I don't know," Matt answered tightly. "They're not giving him any severely toxic serums, but the last one they gave him made him sick for a day or two and didn't do anything much."

"What was it meant to do?" Wade asked.

"Not entirely sure," Matt admitted. "Peter's been reading over the research data, and he tried to explain it a bit, but it really isn't my area of expertise. I think they're trying to increase the amount of spider DNA he has."

"Why?" Wade asked blankly.

"I don't know," Matt shrugged. "I know their overall aim is to understand our abnormal enhancements, quite possibly with an eye to replication. But the purpose of any individual experiment is beyond me."

"Sounds like Weapon X all over again," Wade groused.

"I doubt it's _that_ bad," Matt disagreed. "These guys appear to be moral enough to rather we stay alive and well no matter how successful the experimentation."

"But _still_ …" Wade whispered, unable to put his apprehension into words. He curled in on himself, and for the first time he truly _noticed_ that his scarred, blotched skin was on display. The ugly _mess_ left behind last time he was experimented on. At least Matt couldn't see it, and Peter hadn't seemed to mind earlier.

"I don't know what they're going to do, but they can't do anything permanent to you, can they?" Matt asked.

"No, but they can still do plenty!" Wade hissed. Cutting into him, dissecting him alive, pushing his limits…Automatically he pulled on his restraints, knowing it was futile, but needing to _try_.

"Okay, okay," Matt said quickly, hearing the clinking of the chain. "Just- calm down. You know I can tell when people are lying, and I'm pretty good at working out the right questions to ask. Just trust me, and I'll see what I can find out. Okay?"

"What can we do to stop them?" Wade asked wretchedly.

Matt sighed, tilting his head back, sightless eyes pointed towards the ceiling. "I think Peter's hoping he can help make sure they don't do anything that will harm us, but really, I'm just trusting my conclusions. I don't think they're _cruel_ , just driven."

"Really?" Wade tilted towards him. "Tell me everything."


	11. Things to Try Out

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 11 Things to Try Out**

Matt ground his teeth, the headache becoming increasingly pointed. The headache had a name, and that name was Deadpool. He hadn't stopped talking for about four hours. He'd spent some time on the strengths and weaknesses of various methods of restraint, with a diatribe on the side about how frustrating adamantium could be, progressing to a lecture on tranquilizers and their side effects. By that point, Matt was desperate enough to bury his head in the blanket and pretend to sleep. Wade kept talking.

Matt _really_ didn't want to know how many pills it took to overdose on rohypnol, nor how many attempts it took Wade to perfect it for his own body weight. Nor did he want to think about why Wade would try it.

"-but for a _really_ surreptitious poisoning you should mock up a food poisoning case, and that's _messy_ ," the merc was saying. "Besides, I like to _own_ my kills. I never police my brass, y'know? 'Cause I scratch my symbol on the bullet casings, and I want people to know it. And for that I get labelled 'unprofessional'. Well, that and the occasional gratuitous murder. But I don't usually unalive the guy who hired me. Or maybe it's 'cause of that time I let the target go 'cause he gave me the address of this great taco place? I dunno, I did go back and off him later…"

"Or maybe it's because you never stop talking!" Matt snapped at last. "Can't you just go back to sleep or something?"

"Not tired," Wade sulked.

Matt took in a deep breath, and released it. Too bad he couldn't kill him.

Or could he?

"You done much sparring while restrained?" he asked, a smirk coming to his face.

Wade perked up. "That an invitation?"

Matt let his smirk widen to a grin. "If you're up for it." He bounced to his feet. His training hadn't exactly covered this level of restraint – maybe if Stick hadn't…but that didn't matter – but he could do with a challenge.

Wade also rose. "Don't hold back on me," he requested.

Matt nodded once. "Try not to break anything." He leapt.

As he expected, Wade dodged out of the way of the two-foot kick aimed at his head, but raised his hands to slam his fists down on Matt when he landed rather than preparing to defend himself. Matt let his bound wrists fall around Wade's neck, bringing them both down. Wade struggled, but Matt let the blood pound in his ears, clenched his forearms, and _wrenched_.

Wade told him not to hold back.

Matt had never snapped someone's neck before.

With alien invasions now a possibility, he might have to one day. The act was easy. The sound was…jarring.

Matt disentangled himself from Wade, and nudged the other man's head back into alignment. There was a slight creak, and then a gentle sort of clicking noise as the damaged tissue rebuilt itself.

The lawyer moved away and curled into his blanket. He knew he'd attempted to hunt down and kill Fisk, and that he didn't exactly _regret_ filing (just nearly dying due to Nobu), but actually striking a lethal blow felt very different. It was probably good that he'd done it to Wade first, rather than his 'first' kill being someone who didn't come back.

Wade started breathing again.

That was what had been so unsettling; the abrupt absence of heartbeat, breath, the thousand-and-one murmurs of a living body. Arteries pushing blood on while veins occasionally shut down valves to prevent backflow, glands all over trickling fluids into the blood vessels and lymph vessels and digestive tract and even in the lungs. Sounds Matt usually discounted beneath heartbeat and breath and any other sounds unique to the individual.

Footsteps approached. Matt uncurled and bounced to his feet. The walls were too think for him to hear anything distinctive but it was best to be ready.

The door opened and Peter stumbled in. Matt grabbed him by the shoulders and led him onto the blanket pile. It felt like he'd also been issued with new clothing.

"Daredevil, that was _sooo_ weird!" Peter slurred. "I think I'm high. Am I high? Everything's _reeeeeeally_ loopy."

"You sound high," Matt confirmed. He didn't have any of the drug related odours he'd learned to pick up on in college when trying to avoid trouble, but his heartbeat was rapid and his breathing hitched.

"Deadpool looks kinda dead," Peter observed, and giggled for no apparent reason. "Know how I met him? He was gonna kill me. But he stalked me for a week first. Tol' me I was such a cute li'l baby boy and such a brave hero – I think he was flirting with me? I mean I like him, but I don't _like_ him. I like Gwen." He sniffled. "I miss Gwen."

Great. Now Matt had a lapful of grieving human-spider hybrid.


	12. Wade and the Experiment

**Ultimate Avenging Alliance Chapter 12 Wade and the Experiment**

"This really is most disappointing," Suit told Wade. "We can't even _begin_ to isolate your healing factor."

Wade was trying not to tremble as he was bound to the examination table. He was normally – not _okay_ , but sort of tolerant of his history of medical experimentation. It was something he could put out of his mind. But the restraints, the smells, the clinical environment…it all came back. But Wade was determined to not let it show.

"Oh I'm so sorry; how _inconvenient_ of me," he drawled. "I do try to make it easy for the fuckers experimenting on me."

"Hmm, well, there are still options," Suit mused. "We could see how efficient your healing factor is-"

"You're not cutting me up just to watch me come back, you shithead," Wade growled.

"We shall see," Suit said smugly. "But the data that would provide would be limited. Perhaps we should investigate the rebuild of strained muscles."

Wade thought about it. "Huh?"

Suit sighed. "You will undergo an intense workout, and we will observe how your muscles recover, and how long it takes."

"You mean…body-building?" Wade asked. "Body-building. I can do that." He breathed deeply. His skin positively _crawled_ at the thought of being the subject of _any_ sort of experimentation, but…

Well, lifting some weights, having a few scans; where's the harm in that? Well, giving up was an awful thing as a matter of principle, but Petey and Matty were cooperating. And it would be nice to be a bit more buff…

"Excellent," Suit crowed. "This'll take a little arranging, so we'll just let you head back to your cell, alright? Any questions?"

"Why are you doing this" Wade demanded. Might as well ask; might get an answer. And Matty can do his little heartbeat trick to confirm it.

Suit chuckled. "My dear Mr Wilson, or Deadpool, if you prefer," he smiled. "Don't you realize how amazing you all are? You are one of only two successful Weapon X experiments. Mr Murdock, Daredevil, had a tragic accident, and despite losing his sight, his every other sense has been enhanced to the preternatural level. Mr Parker, Spiderman, he was bitten by a spider. Did the venom kill him? No, the retrovirus enhanced him. Don't you see how remarkable that is? Mr Rogers underwent a highly experimental procedure, one that previously created the Red Skull, and came out the peak of human fitness. Mr Stark spent five months in a terrorists' cave, and came out Iron Man. Dr Banner – now that is definitely a failed experiment, but when he keeps it under control, there's nothing that can match the Hulk for sheer unstoppable power. Thor, might be more alien than a god, but there's a damn good reason for that mix-up. Black Widow, Hawkeye, War Machine, Falcon, Ant Man; they may just be human, but there's clearly something else about them. And look at mutants. On the one hand, we have the X-Men; on the other, the Brotherhood; and meanwhile there's who knows how many not taking sides, not getting involved, keeping their heads down and hiding. Just think, if we could find out what makes you people brilliant, and how to tell who to give it to."

"You want to make heroes," Wade stated.

" _Yes_ ," Suit grinned. "If we merely wanted powered people, we'd just hunt down mutants. But that's no good. Think, if we could give Mr Murdock or Mr Parker your healing factor, they'd be so much safer, wouldn't they? No more bleeding out, no more collapsed lungs, no more weeks in bed with broken legs. And if we could isolate Mr Parker's precognition, you wouldn't need to worry about being shot in the head. If we could add Mr Murdock's hearing, then you'd know when there's danger, and what it is, and if you can't dodge it you'll be fine. Don't you see how useful that would be? The only questions after that would be, who do we give it to?"

"I think maybe a more pertinent question would be, _why the hell did you kidnap us?_ " Wade snapped.

"Would you have come?" Suit asked.

Wade propped himself up on elbows and stared at him for a minute, before collapsing back on the experiment bed. "You _bastard_ ," he hissed. _Damn_ him; he had a point. He whimpered. "How long are you going to keep us?"

Suit patted Wade on the head in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. "Just a few weeks, don't worry," he said reassuringly. "Let's get you back to the cell.

Wade sulked, but didn't protest too much as he was pulled up, re-shackled, and man-handled back into the cell. He slumped against the wall next to Matt. Peter was mostly asleep in the lawyer's lap, sniffing and hiccupping "Gwen!" every other minute.

"He retired for about five months after she died," Matt murmured, stroking the teen's hair. "He heard about everything happening in Hell's Kitchen, but he was too scared to get involved. He didn't trust his own judgement. But he was pretty close to just taking off and hunting down the Devil. After Fisk's arrest, he felt so guilty for what he almost did. When he finally decided to get back on the streets, he made a point of finding me. We talked, made an…alliance, I suppose, divided up territory, agreed to work with each other…and I suppose I like having him around. He's good backup, and he understands things no-one else gets. I _wish_ he hadn't started so young, but I was nine when I began training. Sometimes he's like my little brother."

It was the most Wade had ever heard Matt say. He leaned over, and joined him in petting Peter. He felt almost privileged, sharing in such a tender moment.

Even if 'brother' didn't exactly spring to mind when he saw Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has a companion piece, Ultimate Writing Adventure. Please read either all of this first, or one of each alternately. There will be spoilers, but in a movie-trailer style. Please check it out.


End file.
